Ships That Pass in the Night

Of all of the small towns in Farlond to have eccentricities, superstitions, and the like, Dawnhollow in the second era of things was far and away the most peculiar of all. It is a curious question how and why this particular seaside village came to be as strange as it was, but that inquiry cannot be answered easily and neither is it relevant to the story. All that needs knowing is that when Falanyel Featherfall heard the wind whisper her name on one Autumn evening while she walked with her toes brushing along the cool beach sand, she should have considered herself a blessed woman.
That would have been the sensible thing to do, anyways.
By the accounts of many a Dawnhollow citizen, a “whisperwind”, as it was so called, was an indication of great luck. But at eleven at night, when the sun had already set and the soft sound of waves on the beach reminded her more and more of the perils of the ocean and the dangers of the wild, a cool voice in the air calling out to her did very, very little to make her feel hallowed. She rather felt haunted instead.
But that’s what she got for staying out late flirting with the blacksmith’s son. And so, Falanyel prudently wrapped her arms around her chest and forged on. Step after step she made her way down the beach, and closer and closer she got to the lighthouse she called home. The wind whispered her name a second time, drawing the goosebumps out from her flesh and urging Falanyel into a full out run.
It was silly, she knew, to be running from a whisperwind. Twice in a night, what luck! So many other villagers would have been immensely jealous. She was destined for fortune they would say. A marriage to a handsome, caring duke. A fortuitous inheritance. Something grand that perhaps could not be anticipated, but there it was, she was destined for greatness.
So they would say.
But all Falanyel knew at that moment was the wind wasn’t so much as whispering as breathing down her neck. Village superstitions be damned, she needed to get home and soon.
So she ran in the dark, in the cool air, along the sandy beach, next to the crisp ocean waves, racing home, running like she was being chased, though she knew it was foolish. It just didn’t feel that way.
Perhaps if Falanyel hadn’t had such a desperate crush on the blacksmith’s son none of this would have happened. Perhaps if she bought into the foolish village superstitions she would have carried on her casual walk. Perhaps a lot of things, but none of those things came to pass. She ran, frantic and blinded, fierce and fast, until her foot caught on something heavy and solid. Then she didn’t so much as run as fall.
“Ungh!” She grunted as her elbows came out to brace her. The impact on her arms was harsh and would certainly bruise, but her shins fell on something soft and yielding unlike the coarse sand she had become so recently intimate with.
“Mnngh.” A sea monster groaned. At least, she was pretty sure it was a sea monster.
The shrill shriek that escaped her mouth following that particular thought need not be recorded. Rest assured, it was quite loud, and quite panicked.
She was on her feet in a flash, energy surging through her. She’d never moved so fast in her life! She was like a cat, nimble and agile. And skittish, very skittish. She moved faster than lightning, springing to her feet nearly instantaneously, and bolting off down the beach.
Or so she would have liked. It is well known throughout all beaches in Farlond, nay, the world, that sand quite hinders one’s ability to run.
So she skittered off instead.
Heart pounding, chest thumping, she sprinted, scampered, and shuffled off as fast as she could. But it was all for naught; the sea monster caught her.
It’s slimy tentacles wrapped around her upper arm.
She screamed again, shriller than ever.
“For fucks sake,” A raspy, deep voice grumbled. “Stop with all that fucking screaming.”
She froze. It sounded an awful lot like a human voice, that. Sort of like a man’s actually. Slowly, she turned around to confront the horror.
Through the darkness, she could make out the silhouette of what could have only been a soaking, grumpy, full-sized man. No tentacles indeed, just soggy fingers.
Forcefully, she removed his disgusting grip from her arm. He conceded, seemingly satisfied that she wouldn’t take off again.
“Now what, exactly, are you doing lying on the beach all… wet at this time of night, hmm?” She wanted to know.
“Shipwreck.” He said simply. “Help me?”
She eyed him carefully and thought a second time about running. He seemed awful alright for having been in a shipwreck. What kind of shipwreck victim had the strength to chase young girls down on the beach late at night? Falanyel thought it safest to consider him the nefarious sort until proven otherwise, so she took off, again.
The sand pushed against her feet, and her feet pushed away the sand. Stride by stride, she tried her best to make it to the lighthouse. Damn her father for living so far away from the village central.
“By the fucking dead, stop fucking running!” Sure did curse like a sailor, that one.
She screamed again, terrified beyond belief. Sea monster or murderer, she wasn’t sure which was scarier. As she ran, she considered the murderer could be bargained with, but could also be far more sadistic. That thought alone brought upon an increase in speed.
But, once again, the terror caught her.
This time, he latched onto her shoulder and spun her around wildly.
Another scream.
“STOP THAT!” He barked, voice thunderous.
“Please don’t murder me!” She cried, tears streaming down her face. When did she even start crying? She didn’t know, she was just so scared. “Please, please, have mercy!”
“I’m not going to murder you.” He grumbled. “I just need some help. I’ve been shipwrecked for fucks sake!”
“The village!” She pointed off towards the west with a shaky finger. “Go there, they can help you! Please, just leave me alone!”
“What so you can trick me into wandering off into the wilderness?” He countered. “I don’t think so, girl. You walk me there yourself.”
“No, please just leave me alone!” She cried. “I don’t want to die.”
“I already said, I’m not going to fucking murder you!”
“Please just--”
“Calm down!”
“I just--”
“I SAID I’M NOT GOING TO MURDER YOU!”
“What’s all this?” A voice cut through the strange squabble. Old, deep, and familiar. The voice of a man she trusted.
“Father!” She exclaimed. Falanyel was up on her feet in no time, running towards the voice. She hit a rather wet, fleshy wall instead, and stumbled back, stunned. “He’s trying to murder me!”
“By the dead, I am not trying to murder you!” The man hissed.
“Stop harassing my daughter, son.” Her father commanded calmly.
“I’m not--” He let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, I just need some help. My fishing boat ran into some trouble just off the coast aways.”
“Shipwreck, eh?” Her father asked.
“Aye. I’ve no clue where I am and I daresay I’m in need of some food and water.” The sea monster explained coolly.
It was silent for a few seconds before her father spoke again.
“Alright son, I’ll take you back to the lighthouse, see if we can get you set, get you back to where you belong.”
“You’re not seriously going to help him are you?” Falanyel cried.
“Falanyel, darling,” Her father’s voice was soft. “This is a man in need of help, we should show him kindness and charity.”
The girl, however, muttered under her breath, “I bet he’s a sea monster.”
Her father didn’t hear, however. “We’re just off this way, son. Follow along now.”
And so Falanyel, her dad, and a sea monster trudged off towards the lighthouse in what had to be the strangest sequence of events the small village of Dawnhallow had yet to see.

Falanyel glared at him over the top of her cup of hot tea. She held it in her hands, close to her chest, steam wafting up to her nose, eyes aimed at piercing through the sea monster’s heart, although now it had become increasingly clear the man was anything but.
Shaved, washed, and draped in dry clothes, there was no denying the shipwrecked sailor was the handsome sort. He had the build of a militiaman and the jaw of a blacksmith, radiating masculinity in a sphere around him. The village girls would have a field day with him.
But then there were his eyes, icy blue and fierce, like there was no compassion left in his soul. Sea monster he might not have been, but executioner he very well could be.
“Portside, eh?” Her father mused. “I have a good friend lives up there. Varn, the butcher, you know him?”
“Can’t say I do.” The sailor replied evenly. “Don’t go into town much. I live for the sea, you know.”
“Of course, of course.” The old man smiled. “I was just like you as a boy. Afraid I’m not so seaworthy these days, piss poor leg, and all.”
“Shame that.” The sailor grunted. “Better to live near the sea than nothing at all, at least.”
“Aye to that.” Falanyel’s father raised his glass in toast. “So, son, what’s a man from portside doing all the way down in Dawnhallow waters?”
“Amberstreamers.” He replied simply. “Far more present down here, you know.”
“Aye, scared by the large ships they are.” The old man nodded. “Portside’s a little too big of a town for their taste. Skittish fish, I always say.”
“Well, that’s why I was out in these waters. Caught an unfortunate wave in a smaller ship. Luck was on my side, I must say. Happened to be in swimming distance of the shore.”
“Aye?” The older sailor seemed curious. Good, Falanyel thought. Best to be suspicious of the bastard. “Those amberstreamers live a bit of a ways out there, you must have some endurance on you son, to swim that far. And a good sense o’ direction, I must say.”
“The stars’ll help with the latter.”
“Aye.” Another mutter. “Smart lad.”
“Well, much as I hate to admit it, this ain’t my first accident at sea. I’ve become
somewhat adept at the business of returning to shore.”
The old man sipped on his tea, thoughtful. As if wondering whether or not to believe his story. Falanyel sure didn’t. “Samhan, was it, son?”
The younger sailor nodded.
“I’ll tell you what, Samhan. You stay here in our lighthouse for a while, I’ll try and get you
fixed up to go back to Portside. Might take a bit, you know. Merchants between here and there ain’t so common, and are becoming less so, you hear? Post goes quick, of course, but that’s about it. So you can send out a letter if you like, but unless you’ve silver pieces to acquire a horse, I reckon you’re stuck in our charming little town for a while.”
Falanyel stared open-mouthed at her father. Had he just allowed this evil man, at least, she was pretty sure he was an evil man, to reside in her house? After his pathetic excuse for washing ashore? For all they knew, he could be a con man, trying to trick them out of house and home!
“I’ll draft a letter, if you’ll be kind enough to lend me a paper and a quill.”
“Of course, son.”
“In the meantime, is there anything I can be doing around here to earn my keep?”
Falanyel returned to glaring at the sailor. How dare he intrude?!
“Mm, anymore this lighthouse runs itself, you know.” Her father replied. “Best go into town, see if you can help out one of the artisans. That’ll be enough for me.”
“Right you are.” The younger man agreed. “I’ll set to it in the morning. Speaking of which, where might I find lodging for the night?”
“Outside.” Falanyel couldn’t help but grumble.
“Of course not!” Her father scolded her. “That is not how we treat guests here! Now, I know it ain’t the best place, but we do have space in the shed if it suits you. I’m sure we have extra pillows and blankets around too, but I’m afraid you’ll have to fair without a proper bed.”
Samhan shrugged. “That’s no problem, not much different than sleeping on the deck of your boat, leastways.”
Falanyel’s father smiled. It was warm and friendly, the kind you gave to someone you felt you shared something personal with. Her brows furrowed. She did not like the look of that at all.
“Alright, now, Falanyel, do you think we can dig up some blankets for our new friend here?” Her father wanted to know.
“I’m not done with my tea.” She grumbled as she sipped slowly on her drink, trying to make it last as long as possible.
Her father shot her a warning glance, but conceded. “Very well. Come on, Samhan, let’s find you a proper pillow.”
And so the two men rose and took off towards the tall steps circling around the lighthouse, leaving Falanyel alone to sulk. So sulk she did, sipping slowly on her tea, trying to figure out how exactly she could get this strange stranger expelled from her house, or better yet, her town.